


Barbour

by Robin_Fai



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Arthur is nervous, Bit of a crush going on in the background, Gen, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Haircuts, Merlin is not good with hair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25885303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robin_Fai/pseuds/Robin_Fai
Summary: Or five times Merlin didn't cut Arthur's hair, and one time he did.
Relationships: Gwaine & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37





	Barbour

**Author's Note:**

> I'm up to series 5 and my mind is drifting now to the important questions like 'who cuts Arthur's hair'. Obviously the answer is Merlin. It's always Merlin. Except that mostly it isn't.

The first time Arthur handed him the scissors and said ‘just a trim please’, Merlin thought he was joking. He stared so long at the small, shiny, scissors that Arthur rolled his eyes and demanded to know what the problem was.

“I’ve never cut someone else’s hair before, only my own.” He said it quietly and hoped that might be the end to it. 

He wasn’t afraid of what Arthur might say to that. He had only been working for him a matter or weeks and he already knew what felt like every variation on the theme of how useless a servant he was. No, his fears lay in what new and bizarre insult his brain would cook up in response. He had taken to telling Arthur they were common phrases in Ealdor. They weren’t. Arthur only showed him negative attention and his own sense of self-worth and preservation demanded he stand up for himself, but he wasn’t naturally cruel at heart and some warped part of him didn’t want to hurt Arthur. Hence, ‘clot-pole’.

“You cut your own hair?!” Arthur’s expression was one of sheer incomprehension. He tilted his head and studied Merlin with a critical look. “Well that would explain a lot.”

Trust the spoiled prince to have always had someone else to style his precious, perfect, golden locks. 

He really ought not to have said that last out loud.

Merlin dodged the cloth thrown at him and hurried off to fetch the servant Arthur was yelling at him to get.

\-----

The next time Arthur needed a haircut he insisted Merlin watch how it was done and learn. Merlin tried to insist that he’d thought about it now and actually if he could cut his own hair then surely cutting someone else’s would be easier. Arthur had scrunched up his face and ruffled Merlin’s hair.

“If this is the result of you cutting your own hair then I am definitely insisting that you watch and learn. I am not getting lumbered with-” Arthur gestured vaguely at Merlin and then gently shoved his shoulder. “Come on, get out of the way, and _pay attention._ ”

Merlin intended to pay attention, he really did, but somehow the tingling in his scalp and his shoulder where Arthur had touched him kept pulling his mind off in wholly other and inappropriate directions. He had made a jibe the previous time about ‘perfect golden locks’ and ever since then he couldn’t help but notice just how good they really did look. If he did get to cut Arthur’s hair next time he would get to run his hands through it. Would it be as soft as it looked?

By the time the cutting was all done Merlin was several shades pinker and had not taken in one solitary detail of the process.

It wasn’t really that important anyway. There was nothing really wrong with his own haircut. He knew what he was doing. Arthur was just being fussy again.

\-----

The third time he was supposed to cut Arthur’s hair was a complete disaster.

It wasn’t a disaster for Arthur’s hair fortunately, but it was for Merlin unfortunately. 

He picked up the scissors while Arthur fidgeted nervously in the chair in front of him. The gleam of silver in the firelight was more ominous than Merlin liked. In his hands he held the power over how the Crown Prince of Camelot was perceived. One wrong snip and he wouldn’t be taken seriously for weeks.

In hindsight, spending who knew how long contemplating all the power in those little blades was where he went wrong. 

He failed to notice Arthur’s growing agitation.

“Merlin!”

Arthur’s voice cut through an idle daydream about what Arthur would look like with really short and spiky hair. 

“What?”

“You’re not paying any attention are you?” Arthur shrugged off the cloth and made to stand up.

“Where are you going?” Merlin quickly reached forward and tried to hold him down in the chair. A foolish choice really. Arthur was far stronger than him.

“I’m – not – letting you – near me – with those!” Arthur replied as they engaged in a bizarre struggle where Merlin tried to simultaneously pin Arthur down and get the scissors to his hair, and Arthur worked to get out of his grip and remove the scissors.

It wasn’t at all like the staged and artful combats the knights engaged in. 

The scissors somehow ended up lodged in Merlin’s foot.

\-----

The next time went marginally better. No one got hurt at least. On the other hand no one’s hair got cut either.

Merlin had everything ready. He got the cloth around Arthur’s shoulders, had the scissors to hand on the table in front of him, and was just reaching out to finally start snipping when there was a loud knock at the door. Arthur visibly jumped and then tried to act as though he hadn’t been startled.

Merlin hid a smirk as he went to answer the door. He schooled his expression to as neutral as he could muster and opened the door, revealing one of the knights. He wasn’t familiar with this one in particular, but he looked travel worn and worried.

“I need to speak with the Prince, immediately.”

“I was just about to-” Merlin began to object.

“It is a matter of utmost urgency.” The Knight spoke over him.

“Let him in, Merlin.” Arthur called over. He was already setting aside the cloth and clearing the table.

Merlin grudgingly stepped out of the way and let the Knight in. Arthur gave him a pointed look, so he made himself scarce while the two spoke. When he returned, Arthur was packing.

“Ah, Merlin, just in time. Finish sorting my bags would you.” Arthur tossed one of the bags at Merlin without warning. He fumbled it and some supplies fell out, but he managed to avoid dropping it altogether.

“You’re going somewhere?” 

“Yes, we need to go and check on a matter at the border.”

“I was going to cut your hair.” Merlin hadn’t meant to sound so disappointed. He wasn’t really. Surely he wasn’t actually disappointed. It was just a haircut.

“No time for that now, we’re leaving immediately.”

He tried not to dwell on how relieved Arthur looked.

\-----

The next time he didn’t even get to hold the scissors. Merlin had arrived directly from the stables and it was stormy outside so he had no doubt that he looked more than a little dishevelled. Arthur’s face pinched into a disapproving look and he shook his head.

“You know what, Merlin, since Ceri always does such a good job with my hair and you’re so busy perhaps we’d be better off leaving things as they are.”

“This is because you think my hair looks bad isn’t it?” Merlin demanded, hands on his hips. He wanted to appear strong in the face of the inevitable criticism that was surely about to be launched his way, but the gentle dripping of his damp shirt rather undermined the attempt.

Arthur set the scissors away back in a drawer. He glanced back at Merlin with a condescending smile. “Well it isn’t exactly the height of fashion,” he said, and then he laughed.

Merlin tried to breathe slowly in and out to avoid saying something stupid. It didn’t work.

“At least I don’t look like a… like the… rear end of horse,” he retorted.

“The what?” Arthur frowned at him. Nothing was getting thrown. Evidently he hadn’t heard properly.

“You heard me!” Merlin quickly grabbed an armful of laundry and fled the room before Arthur worked out what it was he had said.

Later, over dinner, Merlin poked and pulled at his hair so frequently that eventually Gaius put down his spoon and huffed at him and crossed his arms, awaiting an explanation.

“Gaius, do you think my hair looks alright?”

“It’s the right colour and still attached to your head, so I’d say so.” Gaius raised an eyebrow at him.

“No, I meant…” Merlin stopped and considered Gaius’ long, slightly wild, white hair. Maybe he wasn’t really the best person to ask. “Never mind.”

\-----

It was several years until the day he finally got to cut Arthur’s hair.

One bright spring morning Arthur casually announced that Ceri had taken another job and was no longer in Camelot. Merlin was sorting his bedding at the time and simply nodded. Arthur was still talking but Merlin was too preoccupied with the problem of a spell he had been working on the night before and wasn’t really listening. 

“So you’ll do it then?” Arthur asked. 

Merlin panicked. What had he missed?

“I…”

“Excellent! I’m sure you can’t really be all that bad at it. Yours does look much better these days.” Arthur reached out a hand and ruffled his hair.

A kind of nervous nausea settled in the pit of Merlin’s stomach. He had the horrible feeling he had just agreed to cut Arthur’s hair.

As Arthur busied himself getting out the scissors and a cloth for his shoulders Merlin’s worst fears were realised. He would die for this man, but to cut his hair? It was a truly terrifying idea. Yes, his own hair did look much better now, but that was through no talent of his own. He’d never admit it to anyone but Gwaine, after coming across him staring into a mirror forlornly at his latest mess, had come to his rescue. He had been cutting Merlin’s hair for him ever since.

“Just even it up a bit. Take a bit of the length off the back. It’s been irritating my neck ever since it started getting warmer again.”

“Yes, Sire.” Merlin said with far more confidence than he felt.

He took up the scissors and began to work. 

It was alright whilst he was face to face with Arthur. His intense stare kept him focussed on the task and just taking the ends off where it was a bit longer wasn’t too hard. Merlin relaxed into the task and the worry he had felt drained away. 

The problem came when he was working on the back. Arthur had wanted it shorter he’d said. That shouldn’t have been too hard, but without the grounding glare of those blue eyes his mind beagn drifting. He got caught up in the feel of the soft hair through his fingers, the smooth snipping of the scissors, the bright locks falling to the stone floor like leaves in autumn.

“Aren’t you done yet?” Arthur asked him, his voice soft and sleepy. “You’re rather slow compared to Ceri.”

Merlin started slightly out of the trance he’d fallen into. He looked down at Arthur’s head and had to force himself not to cry out in surprise.

“I – yes – all done.” He busied himself putting things away and tidying the cut hair to try and conceal his panic, and the evidence.

Arthur picked up a mirror and looked at the front and sides of his head.

“That actually looks pretty good, and it feels much better at the back now.” Arthur sounded pleasantly surprised. “Thank you, Merlin.”

Merlin forced a smile onto his face. “No problem, Sire.”

“Alright, now we need to get to the council meeting.” 

Merlin once again felt sick. He had forgotten that was this morning. He’d hoped he would have time to look up a spell to fix his little error before anyone else saw. Why, oh why, couldn’t his task this morning have involved a helmet? 

He traipsed behind Arthur all the way to the hall. It wasn’t too busy at this time in the morning and most people they met were coming the other way so didn’t see Merlin’s mistake. 

Footsteps sounded behind them and Gwaine clapped him on the shoulder in passing as he bounded up to walk alongside Arthur.

“Princess! Did Merlin cut your hair?” Gwaine asked Arthur with a wide grin.

Arthur shot Gwaine a puzzled look. “Yes, why?” There was suspicion in his voice. One hand idly drifted up to his head.

“It looks good. Nice and light for the spring.” Gwaine said. His voice was serious, but the wink he covertly gave Merlin was anything but. The pair began walking again while Merlin tried to recall if he knew a spell that would make the ground swallow him up there and then.

Gwaine might find it too funny not to tell the King, but one of the other knights was certain to do so. Merlin wondered how long he had left to live when Arthur finally found out about the almost bald strip diagonally across the middle of the back of his head.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Gwaine so much. Forget real plot and character development. Just give me more Gwaine being Gwaine screentime.


End file.
